


Anchor Me In Reality

by TheProfoundBlade



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Alistair/Meg - Freeform, And Meg and Alastair get out, Character Development, Delastair, Demons, Destair, Destiel - Freeform, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Human!Castiel - Freeform, Humanity, Hurt/Comfort, Identity, M/M, MOC - Freeform, Mark of Cain, Masturbation, Megstiel - Freeform, Multi, Oral, Smut, Weed, Where there's an extra gate in Purgatory, canon!verse, human!Alastair, human!Meg, s10
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:33:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheProfoundBlade/pseuds/TheProfoundBlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alastair and Meg found a way out of Purgatory. A monster gate that purged them of their demonic souls, leaving them back in the real world as humans. They depend on each other to make it through this new existence and live relatively peaceful 'till the two people they both cared about the most, by chance, ends up in their bar in Atlanta.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Calm

The room was dark, silent and cold. The sparse furniture hardly cast any shadows from the dim neon lights that crept through the blinds covering the window. He shifted on the bed, pulling his leg up almost to his chest, reaching over to the bed stand to grab his phone, look at the time and put down the bright screen again under his pillow. 4:24 AM. He remembered a time where he didn’t have to sleep, where days would turn to weeks, months and years in a heartbeat, and he missed that time more than he cared to admit.

A warm, soft arm crept from behind him over his sides to hold him tight across his chest, warm body squirming in close and a soft breath caressed the top of his spine. He felt the lips near his skin tight up in a smile and the hand around him brushed his chest gingerly, affectionate but not too much.

“Are you ever gonna stop looking at that damn phone? No wonder you can’t sleep”, she hummed, planting a soft kiss on his cold skin.  
“It’s not the phone,” he sighed back, covering her arm with his and bracing her smaller hand inside his, “I’m just not used to all this.. human.. thinking.” 

She pressed another kiss against him, snuggling in close, wrapping her legs in his as far as they could reach, as his were much longer, even when bent. He sighed again, welcoming her embrace, adjusting his head on his pillow to hit the top of her head softly, closing his eyes as he felt her soft hair adjust against him.  
“Master Inquisitor not used to thinkin’ so much, or are you just annoyed by the human factor?”  
“Humans think of such useless things. When to eat, sleep, defecate, when is it rude to say this or that. It’s idiotic. Waste of breath.” 

Voices weren't raised, just silent conversation between them. The tender touches continued, never moving past simple affection, as if they were anchoring themselves just by feeling each other's presence. 

After a while, he turned to lay on his back, pulling her in over his chest slightly and brushing his long fingers through her soft, thick dark hair. He pressed a silent kiss against her forehead, closing his eyes and breathing slowly. Finally he started to feel tired, the warmth of her encasing him and her hand brushing across his chest, for some reason making him feel safe.

They had lived like this for about six months, after stumbling back into the world of the living somewhere in the deep forests of Maine. They had been confused and fighting their fears of it being reality or not for a while, but had finally adjusted and gotten back in a normal rhythm, even without their dark souls within them. They had heard about a pack of demons in Atlanta that had cut themselves off from Crowley’s regime to run their own shady business, selling drugs, acting as hit-men and blackmailing for whoever paid enough money. After long discussions about ranks (and him exorcising a few demons to prove they weren't ‘simple humans’), they had overtaken the business and were raking in the goods, money flowing steadily and the group of minions growing steady, both demon and human alike. 

Even so, money wasn't what they did it for. They still enjoyed tormenting people, but it had to be less physical, which especially he hated. She was fine with being cruel and snarky, mentally punishing anyone (minion or client alike) who thought they had a saying in how the business was run. They had suggested starting a “Fight Club” like side-deal as well, mostly for his sake, however that proved difficult when his name was mentioned as being an active fighter.

“This helping?” she almost whispered, looking up slightly and haltering her caress across his chest. He nodded sleepily, clearing his throat and nuzzling further into her soft hair, hand still gently running through strands. Not before long she drew a deep breath herself, yawned silently and nestled in, both finally falling asleep to the hum of the neon light outside.


	2. Leather Jacket

“I swear, you’re the worst. Impossible for you to fall asleep and can’t get out of bed either.” 

He grumbled as he curled up with the covers, covering his face with his pillow. She was standing on her knees at the edge of the bed, hands on her hips, lips drawn up in a curious smile.

“Glad I didn't know you back when you were human to begin with.”  
“Wasn't the same. Didn't have beds. Hardly had clothes. This, much better.”

His voice was low and sleep-heavy, had to breathe between each sentence because he was so tired. She crawled forward and over him, trying to pry her way in between the pillow and cover.

“C’mon Alastair, get up and get going. We have some idiots we have to hustle.”  
“Mrrnnnn…”  
“No, name’s Meg, not ‘mrnnn’. Don’t make me shake you awake.”  
“If you even consider it I’ll make the rest of your day living hell.” 

Alastair finally turned around and sat up slightly, getting met by Meg’s forehead against his, her dark eyes shining from the dull morning sun outside. He sighed and rubbed his eyes, sitting up more and started scratching his arms, shoulders and back. Meg crawled off the bed meanwhile, finding his slacks and throwing them at the bed, humming as she went to the small kitchen.

"You want anything?" She shouted, the sound of dishes getting placed on the counter-top ringing through the rooms.  
"No, thank you." He growled back, hardly loud enough for her to hear. He got up from the bed, stretching his long limbs and stared out the window. Even if they had money, they had decided to live pretty sparse, buying an old condo at the edge of town, meaning they had silence for the most part. He looked out over the city, as it and he was waking up, and grunted as he popped something back in place in his back with a final stretch. 

"I'd say be careful if I didn't know you get off on the little things."

Meg had returned with a bowl of cereal, sitting in the middle of the bed, smiling as she chewed silently. Alastair drew a grin and started putting on his slacks, looking around for a shirt to cover the rest of him.

"Where's-"  
"Laundry day. Already took it out. Sorry." 

She was grinning. If he had been a demon, he'd have taught her a lesson about her odd defiance and rude interruption, but the human in him saw it at almost charming. He threw a pillow at her - which she barely dodged, cereal and all - and found a wife-beater instead, crawling in over the bed after to lay on his back, placing his head on her lap. 

"When's it done? I'm not leaving without looking proper." He hummed, opening up his mouth as she guided a spoonful down towards him.   
"Oh come on old man, get with the times already. This shirt and that leather jacket I found you and you're golden."  
"Meg, that’s-"  
"Stuff it already and stop worrying. The idiots aren't gonna fear you less if you dress casual for once. Hell it might even make those biker-bitches respect you even more."

He sighed and received another spoonful of cereal, quietly chewing as he was looking up at her smiling face. She had always been one of his favorites in Hell; imaginative, cocky, expert in no time and fast. Now, here she sat in all her human glory, chewing on soggy cereal and still carried herself just as she did in Hell. He wondered for a moment what -she- had been like when she was human. 

She took notice in him staring for a while and leaned back to place the now empty bowl on the bed stand, returning over him shortly after and wrapped her arms over his chest, looking directly down at him.  
“What’re you wondering about old man?” she said with a smoldering voice and a twinkle in her eye.  
“Stop calling me that, whelp.” he hummed back, meeting her hands on his chest with his own and brushing gently over her knuckles.  
“What were you like, before? I know what you did and what you became down there with me, but..”

She looked away, smile turned to frown slightly and looked out the window for a while. Alastair observed her closely, not moving a muscle. She usually always had a snarky remark, a quick comeback or the actual answer at the tip of her tongue, but she was quiet for a long time. When the silence became too deafening, he lifted a hand to brush it through her hair and ending under her chin, gently angling her head back down. Their eyes met for a moment and she forced herself out of his grip, huffing.

“Nothing worth talking ‘bout, alright? Sold my soul and that’s what’s important.”

He could see she was distraught somehow and decided to respect her boundaries. This wasn't Hell, they weren't demons and he sure didn't want to drag information out of her like this. Times were different, even if he wished they weren't. 

“Alright, alright. My apologies.”

He cupped her face again very gently, brushing his thumb over her cheek and turning her head back down towards him. Her frown had still not subsided and he felt.. bad?.. for bringing it up. Ugh, emotions.

“I’ll use the leather jacket if it’ll make you stop pouting.” He said with a small smile, still brushing gently at the soft face above him.  
“Cocktease.”  
“I mean it.”  
“Yeah?”

He nodded against her lap and she lit up like a tiny sun, cupping his face quick and dipping down to plant a quick kiss on his lips. She then slid out from beneath him just as fast, practically skipping down the hall to pull out the heavy black leather jacket from a shelf and put it on as she walked more calmly back in the bedroom.

Alastair had sat up, supporting himself on his elbows, observing her almost dancing now. She twirled with a large smile and flexed in it, jacket obviously too large for her smaller frame.  
“You really mean it Al? You’re not just pulling my leg here?”  
“I suppose I’ll let you have this one thing. This one time.”  
“Score!”


	3. Smoking

Smoking was a habit he had acquired after landing back as a human. He thought the vessel probably had been a smoker before, and seeing as he didn't care much anyway he had picked up the habit on his own. He stood, almost too stereotypical, with his back leaned against the dirty brick wall of their local bar (and crime-hub), one foot planted on it as well, smoking slowly as the demons around him laughed and spat after a man walking past.

It was early evening and soon the city would be buzzing with drunk people, young and old, and it wouldn't take long before their first local sales of pot and LSD would happen. Alastair had ordered most of their men out to the city instead, deciding any sales at their local bar would go through him or Meg this evening. He had dressed the part - by the grace of Meg more than his own preferred wardrobe - with loose-fit rugged jeans, thick boots, his white wife-beater and the large, heavy leather jacket. In his pockets, small bags were ready to get passed along, and he fiddled with some of them as he drew his last breath on the cigarette.

“Hey handsome,” Meg mused as she strolled down the street, passing the demons who quickly went quiet, “here to show me a good time?”   
Alastair smirked and exhaled the last puff of smoke, pushing himself off the wall as she passed by him. They walked inside, music already playing loud and placed themselves at a table in the back, signaling the bartender for drinks.

“You could pick up anyone, looking like that” Meg laughed, winking at him as their drinks were placed in front of them. She quickly sipped on her cold beer, lifting her eyebrow.  
“You’re a smooth talker, that’s for sure” Alastair grinned back, drinking from his beer as well.   
“You know little ol’ me.” 

They sat for a while, drinking, joking and laughing. It seemed almost too casual for them, but they actually enjoyed themselves. Alastair couldn't remember when he genuinely laughed like he did with Meg these days, only gathering memories from some of the most brutal of his torture sessions and seeing some of his contraptions working (and failing). This was a different kind of joy, however, and it was finally starting to feel like he could get used to this feeling.

“C’mon Cas, you’re gonna have to try it sometime. And it’s with me, can’t get more safe than that.”

Both Meg and Alastair turned their heads quickly towards the bar, seeing two very familiar faces sitting there, one sipping on a glass of whiskey, the other a large beer.   
“No way-” Meg whispered.

“Dean, I don’t-.. Why do I absolutely have to experience getting high? I don’t feel its a necessity for me to live on as human.”  
“Look man, I've seen ‘future’ you, high on whatever and you were.. Let’s just say it was a good look for you. It’ll be fun, I swear!” 

Dean looked at the former angel with a large grin, sipping again from his whiskey. Apparently, he had decided they should get high together after a successful hunt, having a few days left in the city to spare. Dean had heard about the good quality weed circulating the city (Meg knew a great ‘farmer’), and after coaxing Castiel a little they had ended up at the center of the dealership. 

“No god damn way.” Meg breathed again, chugging her last beer and was about to jump up from her seat as Alastair’s hand grasped her arm tightly, ensuring her not leaving.  
“What the hell do you think you’re doing Meg-” he growled lowly, bright blue eyes shining from underneath the hooded darkness, “-are you trying to get us both killed?”  
“It’s my unicorn Al. He’s right there. I can’t let him run away from me again.”   
“Do you even realize what you’re saying?!” he growled again, letting go of her arm and looking over his shoulder to eye at Dean. It wasn't only Meg that wanted to rush up there, but it was unsafe for both of them. Even though they were human, Dean especially would be brash in his decision, and Alastair didn't want to risk it… even though he was as wildly tempted to rush to Dean as Meg was to Castiel.

“Hey uh, you-” Dean muttered towards the bartender, who leaned in with a knowing smirk on her face, “-who do we have to talk to for the.. you know.”   
He held his hand against his mouth as if to imitate smoking, and the bartender giggled slightly. She pointed towards Meg and Alastair’s table and returned to another patron, as Dean turned to Castiel again to seemingly convince him further.

“Well fuck,” Meg muttered, “what now?”  
“Go, then. Handle it. Sell them something.”  
“Me? What about you-”  
“Just go before they see us both, alright?”

His eyes were hard as steel and commanding at her, and for the first time since they had returned she felt like he was trying to outrank her, trying to force her to do something. Instead of obeying she grabbed his wrist and hauled him with her, steady footsteps towards the hunter and angel. 

“Hello, boys” she hummed, releasing Alastair’s arm to cross her own in front of her, “fancy seeing you schmucks here.”  
Dean turned around to see her over his shoulder and almost jolted off the chair whilst Cas’ eyes grew wide and his mouth gaping. Dean reached for the can of holy water in his belt and Cas stopped him, getting a disgruntled sound from the hunter.

“Don’t worry fellas, harmless. No black eyes anywhere to be found.”  
“Prove it,” Dean growled as he pulled the can from his belt and reached it towards her. So far, none of them had noticed Alastair as he had sat down, back against them and the bar, listening in. Meg took the can and took a swig, licking her lips with a wink towards Castiel who was still openly gawking. 

“See? All good.”  
“How-”   
“Long story. I hear you’re out to have a little fun?” 

She was snaking her way towards Castiel, hand grasping at the edge of his open coat, Dean huffing at her.   
“And what, you’re the dealer?”  
“Mm, me and my partner. Run a respectable business actually. Aren’t you just surprised?”  
“Partner who?” Dean growled. Castiel continued to look baffled, hands slightly shaking as he wanted to reach out and touch her.   
“Big doof right behind me. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about actually.”

Dean looked past her and his brows furrowed, the shape of the man reminding him of someone but he was unsure. He moved past Cas and Meg slowly, not seeing Meg snake her arms around Castiel and whispering into his ear.

“Hey. You.” Dean said, voice stern, moving very slowly to try and catch the face of the man at the bar.  
“Hi Dean” Alastair hummed, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes, “didn't expect to see you here.”


	4. Compassion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of smut~

The door slammed behind them and Meg stomped past him to go punch in the bedroom wall multiple times, shouting as she did. She walked around the bed a few times, kicking at shoes and the bed until she punched another hole in the wall, tears forming at the edge of her eyes and bruises forming on her knuckles. Alastair walked in quietly, plopping himself down in one of the soft chairs facing the bed, sighing as he watched her walk and shout.

“What did you say to him? How could you let them leave like that?” Meg shouted, a single tear releasing itself and rushing down her cheek.  
‘Emotions’, Alastair thought, ‘not something we've missed at all..’  
“I didn't say anything. He just stared at me and left. I swear.” He tried to say calmly.  
"Stop lying! I had him, right there, my unicorn and y-you--"

Meg stopped her pacing and sat down quietly on the edge of the bed, facing the window, trying to calm her breathing. Alastair kept looking at her, analyzing the situation, not wanting to make it worse. Again, it wasn't just a loss for Meg. Dean had been standing a few feet away, just out of reach to touch and then.. Gone. He didn't feel it necessary for Meg to know he was adequately upset.

"Why am I so.."  
"Upset?" Alastair hummed, thinking she was mirroring his thoughts.

She nodded silently and turned her head towards him, drying off some warm tears as she did. He shook his head and sat forward, supporting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together contemplatively.

"I guess.. It comes with humanity."  
"Fuck humanity." she growled, moving into the bed to sit with her back against the headboard, facing him.  
"Gladly. For you my dear, a thousand times. But, alas.."  
"It's idiotic. He's just a.. A guy."  
"He meant a lot to you back when you were a demon too though, yeah?"

She nodded slowly, looking down into her lap where she was fiddling with the duvet covers.

"He was.. I didn't.."  
"We usually only experience-" he stopped himself, realizing what he was saying, "-experienced.. The extremes. Lust, anger, disgust, elation.. But never really love. Never the gray zones of emotion. That's more meant for humans."

He got up from his seat, discarding the leather jacket and crawled in next to her in the bed, sitting shoulder to shoulder.  
"Doesn't mean it doesn't ever happen though. Plenty demons came back on my rack for trying to save their loved ones.. Human lovers."  
"Did you ever.. Understand?" She said looking up at him, eyes wide and hopeful, even though she knew him too well for it to be the case.  
"Mmno. Not until the very last years of my demonic time. And even then.. I didn't fully understand."  
"So you'd torture me forever if I had been sent back now."

He shrugged. Things were very different. He was different. He knew now, understood a little better. The word pining had never had a spot in his vocabulary till he got 'reborn' a human. And especially now, after tonight, the word stuck out to him. 

"It's likely, but I wouldn't say for sure. You're my favorite, I'm sure I could have let it slip."

He smiled at her and she leaned her head on his shoulder, sniffling quietly. They sat for a while, staring into nothing, the familiar hum of the neon light buzzing through the room. After they had stumbled back into existence, they had clung onto each other and never let go. Even if neither of them would admit it, they had been terrified, the safety of the demonic soul gone and they simply were. They developed a sort of affection towards each other, not romantic but still as co-dependent. Their kisses, their touches, their embraces - it was to remind each other they were there, they had someone, they weren’t alone in this new existence. Some people would define it as ‘friends with benefits’, and Alastair supposed it was a proper definition except that they never had sex. 

“Wait,” Meg muttered, sitting up a little again, “you said ‘not until the last years’... What do you mean? Something changed?”  
Alastair smiled to himself and looked down, folding his hands together, caressing a deep small scar at the soft flesh on his thumb. She nudged him with her elbow and started smiling slightly.

“Spit it out old man!”  
“Mm well..” he started, still smiling wide, “you’re not the only one yearning for someone.” 

Her eyes widened and her smile grew adequately. She pushed him hard with a giggle and their eyes met for a moment. He was still smiling, all the way up to his eyes.  
“No way, is it-”  
“-yeah, you know. It’s not a big deal though my darling, it’s unrealistic. But I can tell you it was the hardest thing in my existence, seeing him being taken away from me.” 

She nodded, smile lessening. After a while she started moving on the bed, crawling across him, sitting in his lap and pulled him forward into a hug. At first he was confused, but nestled into the crook of her neck, her soft hair draping over his head, embracing her with his long arms and holding her tight.  
“We’re screwed, huh,” Meg whispered, smile painted over her words.  
“In a sense.” he muttered back, equally smiling. They sat close for a long time, limbs squeezing each other sometimes. It was soothing for them both, as it had been the first day they saw the light of day again.

“Well, my dear,” he sighed against her neck, planting a soft kiss on her pulse, “I will go grab a shower.”  
He lifted her off and placed her down on the bed, rolling over her and got up from the bed, pulling off his t-shirt before stretching. Meg hummed appreciatively, tossing off her own t-shirt and pants before crawling under the covers. She clawed after the remote and turned on the TV to watch some bad reality-show as Alastair walked past the screen, dropping his pants before stepping into the bathroom.

He stepped into the small shower and pulled the glassdoor to close it behind him, sighing as he turned on the faucet. For a long time he had bathed in scalding hot water, perhaps mentally trying to feel the touch of Hell on his skin again, but he had started to bathe in a more normal temperature. He didn’t feel like wasting too much time in there tonight however, quickly washing his hair, but as he started to scrub his body his mind started to wander slightly.

_‘That the best you got?’ ___  
_‘Keep talking and you might find out, boy.’_  
_‘I’ve gotten worse from my half asleep, drunk, deadbeat dad.’_  
_‘Ah, have you now?’_  
_‘Yea-ah-aah!’_

Without hardly noticing, he had grabbed himself, stroking long, slow and languid. His eyes were closed as he imagined the green eyed hunter in front of him, bloody and worn out, being defiant as always. He turned up the heat of the water slightly, returning to his fantasy once more, speeding up with every imaginary whip we cracked over Dean’s backside, biting his tongue with every stifled moan he managed to get out of the boy. 

_‘M-more-’_  
_‘I’m sorry, what Dean?’_  
_‘Moh-re, please Alastair, I need-’_  
_‘Ah, you -need-.. I see..’_  
_‘Please, I’ll b-be good, I-’_  
_‘Oh my sweet boy, of course you will.. You have no choice.’_

His strokes got quicker and quicker, tighter and tighter. He leaned forward, supporting his arm on the wall and pressed his head against his underarm, opening his eyes slightly to see himself work. He imagined Dean there, nose meeting salt’n’pepper pubes, bright green blood-shot eyes looking up at him, the filthiest sounds resonate from his throat. 

He moaned low to himself, closing his eyes a last time, feeling the head swell in his grip as he let go, imagining adding his white stain on a bloody, willing, needy face, the dirtiest moans ringing in his ears. He breathed hard and deep, stroking himself slowly as he went soft, opening his eyes again to look up at the warm water still pouring over him. After cleaning himself sluggishly he turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and quickly drying himself, walking back in to the bedroom to find Meg being busy.

Her face was flushed and her eyes closed, legs spread underneath the cover and one hand clearly working while the other ran over her chest and neck gently. She was breathing deep, small gasps, whispering a name to herself as she squirmed.  
He stood for a while, silently, holding his towel tight around his waist as he watched her. Either he could leave or he could join, but not for his own pleasure. He wanted to make it up to her somehow, practically scaring away her unicorn, and silently walked up to the bed. He dropped the towel, seemingly not pulling her out of her fantasy, and crawled under the covers, sliding next to her as gently as possible, starting to kiss her soft arm and up towards her neck which she exposed quickly.

“Need some help my dear?” he whispered, suckling at her pulse, hands not touching her until she told him to. He ran a pointed tongue delicately over her tender skin towards her ear, sucking in her soft earlobe and tenderly bit it, being rewarded with a deep moan.  
“Cas, ah..”  
“I can be Cas for you, sweetheart.. Do you want that?”

She nodded frantically and moaned again, arching her back. Obviously she were already close, but as she gave him permission he ran his large, warm hands over her leg, grasping at her soft thigh while he moved his mouth from her ear down her neck and ending at her soft breast, planting soft, wet kisses on the way. He suckled on her nipple gently, broadening his tongue to circle around it and started moving further down, feeling her arms remove themselves when he did. He moved down the bed and between her legs, gently pulling away the covers to expose her completely. She had taken her arms over her head, eyes still closed and face flushed bright red, breathing deep. He thought she looked gorgeous as he crawled in over her, kissing from the top of her sternum down between her breasts, down her soft stomach ending at her hipbones.

She moved her hips up slightly, craving the touch and feel, whispering the angel’s name repeatedly, starting to caress her breasts again. He kept his eyes on her as he grabbed around her thighs and pushed them up slightly with his shoulders, nibbling at the soft skin of her hips as he moved further and further down. She gasped deeper and deeper, a hand running down herself to find his head, hand carting through his damp hair and tugging slightly at what she could grab. 

With a smile he moved down, broad tongue hitting every part of her and causing her to moan and arch her back again, hand stilling for a moment. He pressed tender kisses on her clit, tongue darting out between to taste her. He opened his mouth and encased her completely, licking tenderly at her entrance, feeling her squirm in his grasp. 

“Cas, cas, cas” she mused, breathing coming in quicker, fingers tugging at her tender nipples quickly, hips moving against him. He hummed and felt how she loved the sensation, starting to suckle on her again, tongue tip teasing and tasting. She arched again, almost silent, hand in his hair stilling and he continued, tongue dipping deeper and deeper in her between every suckle.

As she came she dug her nails in his scalp, moaning loud and brash, head pressed hard into the pillow and back arched almost impossibly high. She moved her hips against his face, almost riding him, and he enjoyed every second, his hands brushing her thighs gently as he slowed down his pace, humming against her again.

“Holy crap..” Meg moaned, relaxing her body, feeling her thighs only getting held up by the grip Alastair had around them. He planted a few last kisses on the sensitive skin, moving to sit up and let her legs fall apart over his thighs. He carted his hands over her, smiling to himself as she continued to squirm from the good sensation, seeing her bite her lower lip and eyes fluttering open.

“That was..”  
“Mhm..”

He crawled over her, sinking his body weight slightly on her and got a soft kiss before he crawled to his usual side, pulling her on his chest on carted his hand through her hair.  
“..what about-”  
“Mmhm. Don’t need anything. Just wanted to make you feel good.” 

A moment of silence.

“Does that mean we're-”  
“No. Just thought you could use a little extra help tonight, that’s all. I hope you don’t mind.”

She shook her head against him and smiled. Neither of them really wanted each other like that, but if they were doomed to be together forever, they might as well explore the benefits part of their friendship. Just before they drifted off, Alastair’s phone buzzed on the bed stand. He reached awkwardly behind him to get it and opened the text, from a number he didn't recognize. 

He held his breath for a while before Meg looked up at him.  
“What is it?”  
“Well. I think you might see your unicorn again, if this is anything to go by.”

**“Meet us at the bar tomorrow. 9pm. Bringing more holy water. Need to talk. -DW”**


End file.
